Twice marked by the same wet fence
Two days in a row, caught by wet paint on a handrail. I’d bow my head in shame, but my forehead is too easy a target.
Yesterday, it was bad luck. Bright sunshine, a lovely rail to lean on while waiting for the bus, no signs… dark green goes well with my palm. No big deal; a quick wipe with a ragged tissue and you could hardly tell. But to return t0 the same place, a day later, and after testing with fingertips… fate. I managed to get my forearm imprinted. Goes well with inkstains and other odd markers from a day in my world. How long should it take for some cheap paint to dry? Guess I’ve answered my own question.
While on my way to the bus stop this morning, I had a wonderful show of lightning in the distance. Bolt style, not that ambivalent “heat lightning”. The bus arrived JUST before the rainfall.
Same routine this evening. Like bookends on the day. I’m not outside, but son #3 is on his way to where’er. As long as he doesn’t play ground rod. Wet is good for growing things (and children). Yes, we offered a drive, but there comes a point where stubborn trumps common sense.
Today, I had my first videoconference with our northernmost school area. Only seven years behind the rest of the board. Part of the difficultly came with the remote nature; no roads to there. Train, plane or canoe. They’ve invested heavily in two-way satellite capability, and we’ll now save some flight time for the interested officials.
